The old woman was at the art gallery
looking for the Monet that showed
a dock and a few people on it,
boats ready to be taken on the lake;
something about one of the characters
had a clarity that haunted her, had
taken her out of the church before
the benediction and she had lost
her watch on the walk over and now
was lost in theology and art and time
when she felt the sudden pain, overhearing
herself say, “I know where I was. I
know where I am. I don’t where I’m
going.” as she felt her muscles relax,
the cold marble floor on her legs
and then her face, thought she heard
her daughter who had drowned falling
off a dock cry, “Momma!” once more.
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